


T to My A

by AlexiaRexia



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Clarke, Clarke is a college senior, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff, I think you know where this is going..., Lexa is a PhD candidate and TA, Sassy Clarke, Smut, aspiring professor lexa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-07-27 07:03:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16213922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaRexia/pseuds/AlexiaRexia
Summary: Clarke is in her final year of undergrad and needs one more general studies course to complete her degree and graduate with honors... if she doesn't fail the course and wreck her GPA in the process. Lexa is a PhD candidate and TA for the very Human Rights class that is threatening to be Clarke's undoing. Clarke needs her help, but they got off to a rocky start. Can Clarke swallow her pride enough to seek out Lexa's assistance?(Yes. Yes, she can.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I will finish JitT. But for now, my muse is demanding that I focus on this. So, enjoy!

“Kill me.” 

 

Clarke rolled her eyes at the overly dramatic command. “That’s what you get for drinking your bodyweight in Jose the night before the first day of classes.”

 

“Monday morning classes should be illegal,” Raven groaned out, head still on the table in the dining hall. 

 

Clarke popped the last of her banana nut muffin into her mouth and chewed. “It’s not even that early,” she said, noting the time. It was nine thirty-nine and they both had a ten AM class. “At least you didn’t have an eight AM class like Octavia.”

 

Raven made a noise of disgust. “What was she thinking with that class?”

 

“She needs it for her major,” Clarke pointed. “And it’s only offered at eight. What are you going to do when you have a real job and need to be there at eight or even earlier?”

 

Raven lifted her head, hair falling in her face. “Die,” she said miserably. 

 

Clarke laughed and pushed back her chair to stand. “Well, I call dibs on your PS4.” Then she grabbed her bag and gathered her trash. 

 

“Rude,” Raven said, sighing as she stood on wobbly knees. “Ugh, remind me to never drink again.”

 

“Yeah, sure, that’ll happen,” Clarke said. 

 

“How are you not completely hungover right now?” Raven asked as they walked out of the dining hall and into a bright sunlight. Raven immediately dropped her sunglasses onto her nose even though it was an overcast day, no sun in sight. 

 

“Because I stopped after a few drinks knowing I had class this morning,” Clarke answered. She wasn’t opposed to enduring a hangover here and there, but she knew that having a hangover when she had class the following morning was a big mistake. She’d learned that the hard way when she’d gone to class hungover during her freshman year and ended up throwing up in the garbage can in the hallway just outside the classroom, complete with a large audience of students. And her professor. Yeah, she’d only made that mistake once. 

 

“Nerd,” Raven scoffed. 

 

“Says the girl double majoring in mechanical engineering and computer programming,  _ and _ minoring in astrophysics.”

 

“You’re also double majoring,” Raven pointed out. 

 

Clarke laughed. “In visual arts and graphic design,” she said. “It’s a little different, Rae.” 

 

“Whatever,” Raven said. “I’ll see you later. If I don’t die first.” She veered off on the path leading to the massive engineering building. 

 

“Your PS4, Rae!” Clarke called after her. Raven flipped her off without looking back. Clarke chuckled as she continued on the path towards the building that housed the political science department. Her first class of the new semester would be one of the general standards that she’d pushed off until her senior year. Politics was so not her forte, and the Human Rights class she’d signed up for was the only one that sounded somewhat appealing. No, that was a stretch. ‘Appealing’ wasn’t the right word. More like the only class that she thought she could manage to stay awake enough to pass with a decent grade and not kill her near-perfect GPA. 

 

She found the classroom quickly and chose a seat in the lecture hall about halfway up and on the very end. Given the size of the classroom and that it was an introductory class, there were likely to be about a hundred or so students. At least that meant she could blend in a bit. She pulled out her laptop and got herself situated while she watched the other students trickle in. Seeing a familiar face, she smiled and waved to get the girl’s attention. 

 

“Hey, Clarke,” Maya said as she pulled out the chair next to her. “General standard?”

 

Clarke groaned. “Yes,” she said. “I hope this is a relatively easy class. I have two classes with Sydney this semester.” 

 

Maya winced. The head of the graphic design department, Professor Sydney, was a known hardass and it was nearly impossible to get an A in her classes. One of her classes was the only B Clarke had ever received in her college career. “I’m only taking one with her this semester, Interface Design,” Maya said. 

 

“Tuesdays and Thursdays at eleven in the second floor Mac lab?” Clarke asked. 

 

Maya nodded. “You, too?”

 

“Yep,” Clarke said. “I’m just glad I don’t have an early class with that woman. Can you imagine her at eight in the morning?” She shuddered. 

 

“She really is terrible,” Maya agreed. “But she’s also bloody brilliant with design.”

 

Clarke sighed. It was true. “All I’m saying is that this better not be a ridiculously difficult course or my GPA will be completely fucked.” 

 

“If you’re looking for an easy A, I suggest you drop this class now and opt for the American Democracy 100-level course instead of wasting your time here,” a bored-sounding voice from behind them said. 

 

Clarke turned and saw a girl about their age, maybe slightly older, who seemed to not be paying them any mind as she typed away on her laptop, but there was no one else around who could have made the comment. “Excuse me?”

 

The girl finally looked up and Clarke was struck by her green eyes even behind the lenses of her glasses. She was quite attractive with her long hair falling in soft waves and pulled over one shoulder and her slim build, but she gave off an air of arrogance with her slightly raised eyebrow that immediately put Clarke on edge. “This class,” the girl repeated. “If you want a class where you can goof off and do the bare minimum and still do decently, this isn’t it. You’ll have to actually do the reading and pay attention to do well.” 

 

Clarke bristled. “First of all, it’s rude to listen in on someone else’s conversation.” That was petty, yes, but she still said it. “And secondly, no one said anything about goofing off or skipping the reading. Maya, were you planning to goof off or skip the reading?” 

 

Maya looked amused and shook her head. “Nope,” she said. 

 

Clarke looked back at the girl. “Neither am I,” she said. “If you’d ever had a class with Sydney, you’d understand. And how would you even know about the demands of this class, anyway? Are you repeating because you failed it?”

 

The girl raised her eyebrow even higher but didn’t have a chance to respond before the professor entered the classroom and called everyone’s attention. Clarke turned to the front and tried to forget the conversation that had just taken place. Something really irked her about the girl behind her, but she couldn’t figure out why it affected her so much. She shook her head to clear it and managed to focus on the professor as he began passing out the syllabus and discussing the basic introductory things like his office hours, the expectations of the course, and how to find the online readings. 

 

“There are two teaching assistants for this course,” the professor said as he discussed seeking out extra help. “They are graduate students here to help you if you have questions about any assignments or readings, and will oftentimes facilitate group discussions, especially when we break off into smaller groups. The TAs this year are Niylah Trader,” he paused to allow the girl sitting on the other side of the room to wave to everyone. Clarke groaned inwardly. Of course Niylah would be the TA for this class. She’d completely forgotten that she was a Poli. Sci. grad student. They hadn’t even really talked much when they’d been hooking up last year.

 

Especially when Niylah had started getting possessive and stalker-ish. 

 

“And Lexa Woods.”

 

Clarke didn’t immediately see anyone raise their hand, but the professor was looking in their direction, so she turned to look behind her and promptly felt her heart drop to her stomach.

 

Great. The arrogant girl from before was giving a small wave to the class of students. The one with the green eyes and glasses and know-it-all attitude. Perfect. 

 

Clarke sent Maya a wide-eyed look and the girl stifled a laugh. Oh, yeah. This semester was going to be a blast. 

 

An hour later, Clarke was already feeling the pressure. The know-it-all girl, Lexa, had not been kidding. This was no bird course. But Clarke was no quitter, and she’d be damned if she dropped the course like Lexa suggested. Her pride was at stake here! 

 

“So, what’s it going to be, blondie?” Lexa asked when the professor declared the end of class and everyone began to pack up. “Think you can handle the course?” 

 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Please,” she scoffed. “No sweat.”

 

Lexa gave her another one of those damn raised eyebrow looks and smirked. “We’ll see,” was all she said before she grabbed her bag and made her way to the front of the class to help the professor answer student questions. 

 

Clarke gave another groan. “Raven was right; this semester is gonna kill us all.” 

 

Maya looked at her empathetically. “Yeah, I’m gonna drop this and take that American Democracy class.”

 

“What?” Clarke asked, panic rising. “No. You can’t abandon me with the TA from hell sitting behind me making snide comments all semester!” The professor had passed around a seating chart for them to write in their names, claiming it would help him with passing back assignments. 

 

Maya smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Clarke,” she said. “I can’t afford another bad semester like last Spring. I need to get my GPA up if I want to graduate with honors. Between Sydney’s class and working so many hours at the wellness center, I just can’t handle the workload.”

 

Clarke grumbled. “Traitor,” she muttered. 

 

Maya laughed. “You could always switch, too,” she suggested. 

 

Clarke shook her head. “I tried already,” she explained. “It was my first choice, but it conflicts with my three-dimensional design II class.”

 

Maya shrugged. “You’ll survive,” she said. “You got this. I, however, do not.” She waved. “Gotta go talk to my advisor about getting a schedule change. See ya later.”

 

Clarke gave a sad wave, dejected. Great. Now she was alone and had already made an enemy of one of the TAs while the other was her former booty call. So typical. 

  
  
  
  
  


“How do you even manage to piss of a TA?” Octavia asked, looking perplexed. They sat in the noisy dining hall eating dinner after their full day of classes. “They’re, like, the chillest people on campus.”

 

Clarke snorted. “Not this chick,” she sighed, using her fork to push around the pile of mashed potatoes on her plate. They were really disgusting, probably from a box mix, yet she kept getting them. Why? She set her fork down with a loud  _ clang _ and pushed her plate away from her. “Why does this always happen to me? How do I make enemies without even trying?”

 

Raven looked at her in amusement. “Hey, we started out enemies and look at us now. You couldn’t live without me.”

 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “That’s debatable,” she said. She joked, but Raven was right about one thing; they did start off as enemies. They’d gone to different high schools in the same city, but had managed to hook up with the same guy. During the summer before senior year, Clarke found out that the guy she was regularly having sex with and hoping to get serious with already had a girlfriend. Raven. And they’d been together for two and a half years. 

 

It had been rough at first, but eventually they decided to team together and kick Finn to the curb. Now, four years later, they were inseparable. Raven had made quick friends with Clarke’s other friends, including Octavia. Actually, Raven and Octavia had seemed to click the most, even more so than Clarke and Octavia. It made her a tad bit jealous at times to see how close they were, but she didn’t usually feel like a third wheel or anything. Even when they’d chosen to be roommates freshman year and Clarke had had to rely on being paired with a complete stranger. That had been… interesting. But her room was only a few doors down from Raven and Octavia’s, so it hadn’t been that bad. 

 

They just had an easy banter that Clarke sometimes didn’t fully understand. Whatever. She loved her friends. And now, they shared a triple suite in the new upperclassmen dorm, which was more like a small apartment than a dorm room. They each had their own small bedroom that barely fit more than a twin sized bed and dresser, and they shared a bathroom, common room, and small kitchenette that had a mini fridge, microwave, and double-burner stovetop. And it was all included in their room and board fees, so no monthly rent and utility payments. 

 

“Whatever, Griffin,” Raven said as she reached across the table to steal Clarke’s uneaten mashed potatoes. That girl could seriously eat anything. “You know you’d be lost without me.”

 

Clarke glared. “Oh yeah? How’s that hangover?” She smirked. “How about we head back to The Dropship tonight?”

 

Raven paused with her forkful of mashed potatoes halfway to her mouth and she cringed. “Fuck you,” she groaned as her stomach rolled at the thought of more alcohol. She dropped the fork on her own plate. 

 

“No, thanks,” Clarke said. “You’re not my type.” 

 

Raven rolled her eyes. “Your type is ‘breathing,’” she said. 

 

Clarke threw her wadded up napkin at Raven. “Hey, just because I’m bi doesn’t mean I’ll fuck anything with a heartbeat,” she protested. “I have standards, and I haven’t hooked up with anyone in months.”

 

Octavia pointed her own fork at Clarke. “Ah, that’s the issue, then,” she said pointedly. 

 

“What?” Clarke asked, confused. 

 

“You’re feeling the negative effects of your lack of sexual stimulation,” Octavia said. 

 

“God, leave it to the psych major to make the phrase ‘you’re horny’ into something all scientific-sounding,” Raven groaned out. 

 

Clarke ignored her. “I am not,” she protested. “I am perfectly capable of not needing a casual hook up.”

 

“Who said anything about casual?” Octavia asked. “What you need is an actual relationship. When was your last one, anyway? Niylah doesn’t count.”

 

“Why not?” Clarke argued. “We spent a lot of time together.”

 

“Doing the dance with no pants,” Raven pointed out. “Did you ever actually go on a date with her?”

 

“We went to dinner all the time,” Clarke said. 

 

“Meeting in the dining hall does not count as ‘going to dinner,’” Octavia argued. 

 

Clarke pouted. “Whatever,” she said, standing as she gathered her tray and slung her backpack over her shoulder. “I’m going to go get some work done on my portfolio. I’ll see you guys later.”

 

She didn’t want to admit it, but Octavia was right. She couldn’t stop thinking about it as she made the trek to the visual arts building. She’d been feeling extra frustrated, sexually, recently. She wasn’t opposed to a casual fling, but she was getting tired of casual, no strings sex. Which was pretty much all she’d experienced since her last real relationship freshman year. 

 

But she also knew that she needed to focus on her studies, particularly her graphic design classes with Sydney. Art, actually using a physical canvas and acrylics, oils, watercolors, charcoal, or whatever was at her disposal, was her true passion. But she knew it would be difficult to make a living selling paintings. She was a realist when it came to things like that. So graphic design was her chosen career path for the foreseeable future while she worked in her off time to get her name known in the painting world. Her medium of choice was acrylic or old fashioned pencil, but she was no Bob Ross. So graphic design would pay the bills, but art would feed her passion. 

 

She didn’t get back to their dorm until well after midnight, cursing at herself for getting so lost in her work as she often did. At least she didn’t have class until eleven the next morning. 

 

“We were getting ready to send out a search party,” Raven greeted as she walked in the door. 

 

Clarke just grumbled about needing a shower and sleep before disappearing into her room. She grabbed some clothes to change into and took a quick shower, glad there was still hot water remaining since Raven liked to take hour-long showers. She let the hot water wash away the grime as she thought about the events of the day. The first meeting of her Typography II class with Professor Sydney hadn’t been as bad as she’d feared. From the syllabus, it seemed to be just a continuation of the Typography I course she’d aced the prior semester, even though that had been a different professor. She wasn’t as worried about that class any longer, but her Human Rights class was a different story. 

 

She winced as she remembered her interaction with the TA, Lexa. The girl had really gotten under her skin for some reason, and she’d been off-kilter for the rest of the day. She had an instant disliking for the arrogant girl, but at the same time, she also kind of had a mini-crush on her?

 

Clarke blanched at that thought. She barely knew the girl. Of course she wasn’t actually crushing on her. That was ridiculous. It was purely a physical reaction to her attractiveness and the fact that Clarke had a  _ thing _ for smart, pretty girls in glasses. That was it. No crush, no desire to get to know, nothing beyond an appreciation for her looks and those stupid, sexy glasses. 

  
That was  _ all _ it was. Nothing more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke has to swallow her pride...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you guys :')

Six weeks into the semester, and Clarke knew she was in trouble. Deep trouble. Though arrogant and rude, Lexa had been right. This class was no easy feat. The readings alone were a lot to juggle, but add the written assignments into the mix and Clarke was buried in Human Rights homework every single night. At least her other classes were fairly easy, so far, and weren’t requiring much time outside of class. But she knew that would be changing closer to midterms. 

 

The current assignment was kicking her ass. Clarke knew she was smart. She’d graduated fifth in her class from Arkadia Prep. She wasn’t the big-boobed, dumb blonde that a lot of people assumed she was before they knew her. She was used to getting A’s and the occasional B on assignments. 

 

So when she got her first major written assignment--a 3,000 word essay on the impact of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights--back with a big red D+ written on the top, her heart sank. 

 

She’d worked hard on that assignment. What the hell? 

 

She quickly turned the essay over on her desk and glanced around, hoping no one saw the grade as she began to panic, her near-perfect GPA seeming to slip away. Logically, she knew one assignments wouldn’t make or break her GPA, but her pride was also hurt. Especially when she glanced behind her and saw Lexa’s knowing look of ‘I told you so.’

 

She really wanted to punch that smug look right off her pretty face. 

 

She sunk into her chair, heat rising in her neck and face. She tried to concentrate on what the professor was saying as he finished passing back papers, but his words were muddled in her brain. 

 

As soon as people started putting their things away and getting up to leave, Clarke realized that he must have ended class. She hurriedly packed her belongings and raced to the front of the classroom to speak with the professor. 

 

“Professor, can I talk to you about my paper?” she asked, forcing her voice to be calm and level. “I’m not happy with my performance.” 

 

The professor looked up at her, a neutral expression on his face. “Of course,” he said. “My office hours are in the syllabus and I’d be happy to go over it with you to prepare for a resubmission.”

 

Clarke perked at the mention of a resubmission, but cursed at his mention of office hours. She’d already noted that his office hours were only during her class times. “I have classes during all of your office hours,” she explained. “Is there any way I can make an appointment outside of those times?” 

 

The professor shook his head. “Unfortunately, those are my only available times. But you’re more than welcome to meet with one of the TA’s. They can go over the assignment with you and you can resubmit the assignment within two weeks, but there will be a ten percent penalty.” 

 

Clarke nodded, not wanting to argue. “Thank you,” she said. She turned and began walking towards the exit, weighing her options. There were two TAs for this class. The way she saw it, she had three options. Take the grade as is, seek out the help of her former hook up turned semi-stalker, or swallow her pride and ask Lexa for help. 

 

None of those options sounded particularly appealing to Clarke. 

 

Seeking out Niylah’s help was a definite no. After their last face-to-face meeting and the string of messages from the girl afterwards, no way was she opening that can of worms again. Even if she had seemed to get it through Niylah’s head that she wasn’t interested, she didn’t want to risk it. 

 

Taking the D+ was a bit daunting, but if she really buckled down on the remaining assignments, she could still get at least a B in the class. 

 

Seeking out the help of the annoying, arrogant girl that say behind her was even more daunting. Clarke thought about this option as she settled into a table in the dining hall where she was supposed to meet Octavia for lunch. She pulled out her laptop and opened up the course syllabus for the Human Rights class. She looked over the upcoming assignments and cursed aloud. 

 

“Language, Griff,” a voice startled her. 

 

Clarke flipped Octavia off as the other girl slid into the chair opposite hers. 

 

“Rude,” Octavia said. “What’s got your panties in a bunch?”

 

Clarke sighed. “I bombed my Human Rights paper,” she grumbled. 

 

Octavia laughed. “Bombed, huh? What did you get? A B?” 

 

Clarke sighed and pulled the assignment out of her bag. She slid it across the table for Octavia to see. “Try a D-plus.” 

 

Octavia whistled. “Yikes,” she said. “Have you ever gotten a D?”

 

“D-plus, and no,” Clarke said miserably. “I don’t understand. I’m not a D student. Just because I have D tits does not mean I get D grades.”

 

Octavia snorted. “Classy,” she said. “What are you going to do?”

 

Clarke stuffed the assignment back into her bag and sighed. “I can redo the assignment and resubmit for a better score if I talk to the professor or one of the TAs first.”

 

“Okay? So do that.”

 

Clarke grimaced. “I have class during all of the professor’s office hours, so my only choice is to meet with one of the TAs.” 

 

Octavia immediately caught on and began laughing. “Oh, this is good. Do you choose the psycho former booty call or the psycho know it all?” 

 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Well, I don’t think it’s fair to say Lexa is a psycho. Arrogant and annoying, yes. But no one is as psycho as Niylah.”

 

Octavia hummed. “Yeah, especially after she showed up at The Dropship that one time.”

 

Clarke groaned at the memory. “Exactly. No way am I asking her for help.” 

 

“So arrogant annoying girl it is,” Octavia said. 

 

“Or I take the grade.”

 

Octavia raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, we all know that’ll never happen.”

 

Clarke pursed her lips. “She’s going to be all ‘I told you so’ and assume I’m a dumb blonde.” 

 

“She already thinks that, though,” Octavia pointed out. “Use this as an opportunity to prove her wrong.”

 

“What do you mean?” Clarke asked. 

 

“Go over your paper beforehand, edit the shit out of it and make your own notes. Do more research. Make it better and show her that you aren’t an idiot.”

 

Clarke thought for a moment. “That… could work.” 

 

Octavia grinned. “Then your crush on her can maybe be reciprocated.”

 

Clarke scowled. “I do not have a crush on her,” she protested. “You’re delusional.”

 

“Oh, please,” Octavia said. “You constantly bring her up. ‘Lexa this’ and ‘Lexa that.’”

 

“Yeah, because she’s  _ annoying _ and always making rude comments in class,” Clarke defended. 

 

Octavia nodded, but her expression said she didn’t believe her at all. “Whatever you say, Griffin.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Clarke spent that night and the next morning revising her own paper. She took the professor’s comments into account and made the necessary changes. She wanted to make sure her paper was the best it could be before she swallowed her pride and asked Lexa to look at it before she resubmitted it to the professor. 

 

She did all this before the next class meeting, wanting to just get the inevitable over with. 

 

Once the professor dismissed the class, Clarke took a deep breath and turned as she slung her bag over her shoulder. She stepped towards where Lexa was having a conversation with another student and waited for them to finish. Once the other girl left, Clarke squared her shoulders and approached Lexa. 

 

Lexa eyed her carefully as she approached, that smug look on her annoyingly gorgeous face. She was wearing her glasses again today. Clarke had such a weakness for smart, pretty girls in glasses. 

 

No! Stop it. 

 

“Can I help you, Clarke?” Lexa asked cooly, voice steady as ever. 

 

“Erm, yeah, I was wondering if you could, um, help me with the revisions on my paper? I’d like to resubmit it for rescore.” She gripped the strap of her bag, knuckled turning white. 

 

Lexa raised an eyebrow. “My schedule is quite full at the moment,” she said. “Have you asked Niylah?” 

 

Clarke wanted to roll her eyes so badly that it physically hurt her with the effort to refrain from doing so. “Uh, no, she and I… no. I can’t ask Niylah. And I have class during the professor’s office hours, so you’re my only option. Will you help me or not?”

 

Lexa regarded her carefully, then shrugged. “I suppose I can squeeze you in,” she said. She opened her calendar on her laptop and looked at her schedule. “I have tonight after dinner free. At 7:30.” 

 

“Fine,” Clarke said. She had been planning to go to the art building after dinner to work on a piece for her midterm portfolio, but this took precedence at the moment. “Where?” 

 

“I have an office in the PoliSci Learning Center, first floor, suite one hundred. Do you have a copy of your assignment for me to go over beforehand?”

 

Clarke nodded and fished it out of her bag. “I already started making edits,” she explained.

 

Lexa just nodded and took the paper. “Don’t be late.” With that, Lexa dismissed her by turning to address another student who had walked up to talk to her. 

 

Clarke did roll her eyes this time and left without another word. This was going to be a long night. 

  
  
  
  
  


At exactly 7:31 (a minute late just to spite Lexa), Clarke walked into room A-23 and looked around. There were a few students--assumedly PoliSci majors or grad students--milling about and hunched over giant textbooks. Then there was Lexa, sitting in a chair at a table covered in neat stacks of textbooks, typing furiously away at her laptop. 

 

“You’re late,” Lexa said without looking up. 

 

“You’re anal,” Clarke rebutted. 

 

Lexa’s fingers finally stopped typing at Clarke’s words, looking up with a frown. “I’m merely respectful of others’ time,” she said. 

 

Clarke pursed her lips. “You’re wasting both our time by dragging me for being a minute late.” 

 

“I can ask Niylah to come in and help you instead if you prefer,” Lexa said. “I think she’s just down the hall…”

 

“No!” Clarke rushed out. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

 

Lexa shrugged as she stood. “Let’s go into my office and discuss your paper so we can both get out of here.” 

 

“Fine by me,” Clarke said, following Lexa. 

 

Lexa’s office was barely bigger than a closet with a desk shoved into the corner and two uncomfortable looking chairs against the opposite wall. “Cozy,” Clarke couldn’t help but remark as she took in the lack of decor or personal touches. “Not much of a decorator, are you?” 

 

Lexa pulled out her desk chair, which looked way more comfortable than the other two chairs in the room, and sat. “I’m here to work, not make small talk.” 

 

Clarke rolled her eyes and sat in one of the chairs, placing her bag in the other. “Right,” she said. “All work, no play. Got it.”

 

Lexa’s eyebrows shot up and she looked like she was about to say something in response, but she shook her head instead. “I had a chance to read over your paper and your edits.”

 

Clarke nodded. “And?”

 

“It’s better,” Lexa answered. “A solid C-plus paper now.” 

 

Clarke scowled. “Excuse me? A C-plus?” 

 

Lexa nodded. “Your arguments are stronger, but still lack originality, and you make some logical errors in a few places.” She turned to a middle section. “Like here. You contradict yourself.” 

 

Clarke knit her brow and took the paper from Lexa, eyes scanning her own words. “I don’t…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “Where?” 

 

Lexa pointed out a passage and Clarke reread it. Dammit. Lexa was right. She did contradict herself. She felt herself growing more and more defensive by the minute and had to force herself to calm down. She wasn’t entirely sure why she was getting so bent out of shape. (Yes, she did. It was because it was Lexa. Had it been anyone else, she’d have taken the criticism with an open mind, made the changes, and been done with it. So why couldn’t she do that with Lexa?) 

 

“Look, I can see that you’re upset,” Lexa said after a moment. “Don’t get me wrong, the writing is good and even almost poetic in places. But you focus too much on the beauty of the words rather than the logic of the content. Your writing  _ sounds _ lovely, but there are logical fallacies that need to be ironed out. You’re looking at this from a fine arts perspective rather than a political science one.” 

 

Clarke threaded her fingers through her already messy hair and breathed deeply. “I don’t know how to do that,” she said. “I’m an artist. Everything is art to me. You may not respect what I do, but I can’t change how I think.” 

 

Lexa knit her brow. “I respect it,” she said. 

 

Clarke snorted. “Okay,” she said in a tone that told Lexa she didn’t believe her. “That’s why you insulted me and my friend on the first day of class.” 

 

“I didn’t insult you,” Lexa insisted. 

 

Clarke blinked. “So, you mean you insinuating that we would goof off and shirk the readings because we happened to be fine arts majors  _ wasn’t _ you insulting us?”

 

“No,” Lexa said. 

 

Clarke stared. “Seriously? How else were we supposed to take it?”

 

“It was merely a suggestion,” Lexa said. “I meant no disrespect.” 

 

Clarke snorted. “You and I have vastly different ideas of what disrespect is,” she muttered. 

 

“I do apologize if I offended you, Clarke.” 

 

Whoa. Clarke had not been expecting that. She looked up in surprise, eyebrows raised. “What?” 

 

“I apologize,” Lexa repeated. “It was not my intention to offend, nor to imply that I didn’t respect what you do. I was merely trying to inform you that this course is quite difficult. Maybe I went about it the wrong way. I am sorry for that.” 

 

Clarke blinked, unsure how to respond. So she stayed silent. 

 

“Was I wrong?” Lexa asked. 

 

“About what?” 

 

“The difficulty level of this course,” Lexa clarified. “It’s not an easy A.”

 

Clarke shook her head. “No, you definitely weren’t wrong about that,” she said. “I guess I should apologize for being so defensive.”

 

Lexa shrugged. “Only apologize if you mean it.” 

 

Clarke sighed. “Yeah, sure, I mean it. I’m sorry, okay? I get really pissed off when people assume I’m some dumb blonde whose tits are bigger than her brain.” Well, she hadn’t really meant to say it quite like that, even though it was true. 

 

Lexa almost-- _ almost _ \--cracked a smile at that. “Well, I can say confidently that you’re not just a dumb blonde.” 

 

Clarke noted that she didn’t repeat the part about her tits, for which she was grateful. “Thank you,” she said. “Now, can we maybe start again? I really do want to get this paper resubmitted. I have a GPA to protect.” 

 

Lexa nodded. “Yes, let’s.” 

 

They spend the next hour going over the rest of Clarke’s paper, and Clarke had to admit that Lexa had a point about her focusing more on the prose than her arguments. By the time they’d reached the end, much of her assignment was crossed off with notes on how to rephrase or change her wording in the margins. 

 

“This is going to take a while to do,” Clarke lamented as she looked over the paper when they’d finished. 

 

“Probably,” Lexa said. “But you can do it. When you’re done, I can give it another look, if you’d like.”

 

Clarke nodded. “Please,” she said. She folded the paper and slipped it into her bag as she stood, awkwardly shifting on her feet. “So, um, thanks for this,” she said. 

 

Lexa smirked. “It is my job, Clarke.” 

 

Clarke rolled her eyes, but this time it was playful. “Right,” she said. “Well, I’ll see you in class?”

 

Lexa nodded. “Don’t be late.” Then she smiled. 

 

Goddammit. This girl was even more gorgeous when she actually smiled. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a long fic, so the 'enemies' part was short and more of a misunderstanding than anything else. I had a TA like this in college. She was seriously hot and intimidating as hell. And before you ask, no, I did not hook up with my TA. She was, alas, straight. Hope you enjoyed! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a peek at what's going though Lexa's mind, and Clarke gets a bit of sage advice from Octavia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you for all the comments, kudos, and bookmarks. Please make sure you have read both chapters 1 and 2 before this chapter! For some reason, AO3 didn't push out chapter 2 notifications when I posted it at the beginning of the week. :( Hopefully, this chapter behaves. I love you all. <3

Alexandria Woods was no stranger to the power of pretty girls. There were over five thousand students on campus at any given time, and roughly half were female. It was fair to say that there were a lot of attractive women roaming around, many even giving Lexa looks of appreciation and, dare she say, sexual interest. 

 

But Lexa had grown immune to the wandering looks from keen undergrads in her two years of assistant teaching. She knew most of them were just eager puppies attempting to use their wiles to charm her into helping them. But the joke was on them—helping was literally her job. 

 

Lexa didn’t get tempted by pretty undergrads—or really anyone these days. Ever. 

 

Until now. 

 

On the first day of class, when the blonde girl opted for the seat right in front of her, Lexa had been struck by an intense need to talk to her. When she’d heard the girl discussing the class and mention that they hoped it would be easy, she’d pounced at the opportunity to speak to the blonde. What had came out of her mouth hadn’t exactly been her plan. Or, well, it had, but she hadn’t meant it to come across so bitchy. 

 

Lexa was a nice person. She didn’t have a lot of close friends because she’d always been a bit of a loner, preferring quiet nights in with close friends than attending the larger social events. She was generally kind and glad to help someone in need. Which is why she’d sought out the teaching assistant job and why she aspired to become a professor of human rights once she earned her doctorate. 

 

But when the blonde had shot out that oh-so-charming comeback suggesting she’d previously failed the class, Lexa had wanted to make an equally snide comment in return. 

 

She was a  _ nice  _ person, goddammit. 

 

So why did Clarke Griffin always manage to unhinge her? 

 

Lexa came to the realization of exactly why Clarke caused her brain to malfunction and words to come out of her mouth before she could stop them. She realized it as they were sitting in her minuscule office discussing Clarke’s paper. The essay had been beautifully written, something Lexa struggled with in her own writing at times, and she had a strong thesis and the potential was there. But the content was lacking. 

 

Had it been a creative writing assignment, Clarke’s paper would have earned top marks. 

 

The look on Clarke’s face when Lexa had called her writing “poetic” had been bright and joyful, if only for a second before Lexa had continued to point out her contradictions and weak supportive details. 

 

But that split-second look that had lit up the blonde’s face like a Christmas tree made Lexa’s heart rate rise and her palms to become sweaty. It was then that she realized her predicament. 

 

Oh, fuck. 

 

She had a crush on a student. 

 

When Clarke had become upset and defensive about her fine arts path, Lexa had paused and realized why Clarke was still so perturbed with her. She’d never apologized for her approach to their interaction on the first day of class. So, she did. And she’d really meant it. She was glad when Clarke seemed to accept her apology, offer one of her own, and they were able to come to an understanding. 

 

Clarke instantly became more relaxed after that moment than Lexa had ever seen her, her posture loosening up and her expression softening. If Clarke Griffin had been pretty with the scowl on her face whenever she looked at Lexa, she was drop dead gorgeous when she actually smiled. 

 

And, god, her  _ eyes _ . 

 

“Earth to Lexa,” a voice and a hand waving in front of her face pulled her out of her thoughts. 

 

Lexa blinked and looked up, startled to see her roommate and best friend looking at her with a curious expression on her face. “What?” she asked. 

 

Anya raised an eyebrow as she studied Lexa across their kitchen table. “You were daydreaming,” she said. 

 

Lexa knit her brow. “I was not,” she said, lying through her teeth. She’d totally been imagining how she could ask Clarke out for coffee or maybe lunch in the dining hall. Oh, or maybe she could ask her if she wanted to go to—

 

“You’re doing it again!” Anya interrupted her thoughts. “What’s gotten into you? I haven’t seen you like this since you were all gaga over Costia freshman year.” 

 

Lexa rolled her eyes at the mention of her ex-girlfriend. “Whatever, I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

 

Anya shook her head. “Nope, not buying it. Who is she?” 

 

Lexa sighed. It would be pointless to deny that she had a crush. Anya could read her like a damn book. “You don’t know her,” she said, trying to get Anya to drop it. “And it’s never gonna happen, so it doesn’t matter anyway.”

 

Anya tilted her head slightly. “Why won’t it happen? Is she straight or something?” She popped a Cool Ranch Dorito into her mouth and chewed loudly. 

 

Lexa shrugged. “No idea,” she said. “But she’s an undergrad in one of the classes I TA. So, not gonna happen.”

 

“Why? Is there a rule against it?” 

 

Lexa shook her head. “No, but it’s still weird. She’s an undergrad and I’m a final year doctoral student.”

 

“Undergrad like freshman or undergrad like senior?” Anya asked. “There’s a huge difference."

 

“Senior,” Lexa said.

 

“Then what’s the big deal?” Anya asked, licking her fingers before shoving her hand back into the bag for another chip. “If she’s a senior, you’re only a few years older. If you like her, why not go for it? It’s been two years.”

 

Lexa inhaled sharply. “Trust me, I’m acutely aware of how long it’s been,” she muttered. 

 

“Are you still hung up on her?” 

 

Lexa didn’t have to ask who Anya was referring to. She already knew. Costia. “No, of course not,” she said honestly. “But even if I wanted to pursue Clarke, I still don’t know if she’s into girls, let alone likes me as more than a TA, and I’m buried in dissertation stuff and TA responsibilities. I don’t exactly have an abundance of free time, you know.”

 

Anya rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun sometimes. Ask her out.”

 

Lexa shrugged. “It’s really nothing,” she said. “It’ll go away. Besides, until a few days ago, she hated me, so there’s that.”

 

“But she doesn’t hate you now?” 

 

“I don’t know,” Lexa said. “I think we hashed it out, but who knows? It’s really fine. I need to focus on school.” She stood and gathered her books. “I’m going to head over to the library for a bit. I think I need a change of scenery.”

 

“We aren’t done talking about this!” Anya called out as Lexa made her way to the door. 

 

“I’d be surprised if you dropped it,” Lexa called back. 

 

It was going to be a long night of studying and trying to actively  _ not  _ think about a certain blonde artist. 

  
  
  
  
  


Paper finally fully revised, Clarke slipped a copy of it onto the table in front of Lexa at the beginning of class a week after their meeting. She felt confident this time, but she’d also felt confident last time, so she had no idea what to expect. Lexa gave her an encouraging smile and placed it in her folder. 

 

Class started and Clarke took notes as she listened to the professor’s lecture. She had to really focus on not letting her mind wander to the girl sitting directly behind her. Since their meeting last week, she’d gotten this funny feeling in her stomach at the mere thought of Lexa. And when she saw the girl in class, she felt the urge to  _ giggle _ . Clarke Griffin did  _ not _ giggle. 

 

Clarke wasn’t stupid. She knew what that feeling in her stomach and urge to giggle meant. She’d developed a crush on her T.A. 

 

_ Kill me _ , Clarke thought to herself when her mind wandered Lexa for the nth time that hour. 

 

Clarke sighed in relief when the professor ended class. She was gathering her things when a tap on her shoulder made her turn around. Lexa was holding up her new paper.

 

“This is much better,” Lexa said. “An A paper.” 

 

Clarke grinned. “Yeah?” Then she quirked her head to the side. “How do I make it an A-plus?” 

 

Lexa laughed. “Baby steps, Clarke,” she said. She handed the paper back to Clarke and stood. “Next time, we can work on strengthening your transitions and conclusion.”

 

“Next time?” Clarke repeated. “What makes you say I’ll be back for help?”

 

Lexa faltered slightly. “Um, I just meant that, uh…”

 

Clarke laughed. “I’m messing with you, Lexa,” she said. “You’re stuck with me now if you keep getting me As.”

 

Lexa shook her head. “You did the hard part, Clarke. You earned that A.” She offered one last smile before heading to the front of the classroom to field student questions, leaving Clarke to mull over their conversation. 

 

As she slung her bag over her shoulder, she looked over the paper Lexa had marked and given back to her. There were a few minor corrections here and there, but what drew Clarke’s attention the most were the positive comments scattered around the paper. 

 

_ Brilliant thesis!  _

 

_ Excellent use of imagery to highlight your argument.  _

 

_ Very strong statement! Really pulls the audience in.  _

 

Lexa had also written a note on the last page in her flowing script. 

 

_ Clarke, _

 

_ I’m glad to see that you still manage to maintain such poetic wording as you build your arguments. This is a beautifully written and clear paper. I knew you could do it!  _

 

_ If you ever have any questions or need to schedule a meeting, you can call or text my personal cell at 202-555-2947.  _

 

_ I look forward to reading more from you.  _

  
  


_ Best,  _

 

_ Lexa _

  
  


Clarke zeroed in on the ten digits written on the page. Lexa’s personal number? Why had she given her that? Clarke could just as easily email her with any questions or the need to set up a meeting. So why give her the number? 

 

Did she want her to contact her about more than human rights assignments? 

 

Clarke looked towards the front of the classroom, eyeing Lexa carefully. Dare she believe (hope) that the girl returned her crush that was heading into full-fledged want? 

 

Lexa looked up then, meeting her eye. She sent her a quick smile (was that a blush on her cheeks?!) before returning her attention to the student in front of her. 

 

Clarke’s stomach felt weird again. Like those quintessential butterflies had multiplied by the thousands. She quickly left the classroom, needing to talk to Octavia. 

 

“I have a major problem,” she said as she slid into the chair opposite her friend in the dining hall. 

 

Octavia looked up at her, forkful of macaroni and cheese halfway to her mouth. “Oh, hello to you, too, Clarke. I’m doing great, thank you for asking.”

 

“O, I’m serious,” Clarke said. “It’s a girl problem.”

 

Octavia raised an eyebrow. “Girl problem as in your period or something or  _ girl  _ problem like you want to bang your TA?” 

 

Clarke gave Octavia a look of shock. “What?” 

 

Octavia rolled her eyes. “You aren’t subtle, you know,” she said, putting her fork down. “You’ve been talking about her all week as you worked on that paper. ‘Lexa said this’ and ‘Lexa thinks that.’ Rather nauseating, actually.”

 

Clarke glared. “Whatever, and I don’t want to  _ bang  _ my TA.”

 

Octavia gave her a pointed look. 

 

Clarke sighed. “Okay, fine, maybe I do, but I don’t want to sleep with her.” She paused, then sighed. “Okay, I don’t want to  _ just _ sleep with her.”

 

Octavia grinned. “Ohhh, you  _ like _ her,” she said, eyebrows wagging with delight.

 

Clarke groaned, dropping her forehead to the table. “She probably thinks I’m just some pesky undergrad,” she sighed, voice muffled by her position. 

 

“You never know until you go for it,” Octavia said casually. 

 

Clarke looked up. “Are you kidding me? I can’t just ‘go for it.’”

 

“Why not?”

 

Clarke sat up straight. “Really? You know how much this class is kicking my ass. I can’t risk making a complete fool of myself and never being able to speak to her again. I’m definitely going to need help with my final project.”

 

Octavia was thoughtful for a moment. “Okay, So you just befriend her for now. Ask her for a casual cup of coffee or something. Become friends. Then once the semester is over, maybe it’ll turn into more.”

 

“That is…” Clarke started, then paused. “Not a bad idea. I suppose I could actually get to know her a bit. I mean, all I really know about her so far is that she’s incredibly smart and sometimes a bit arrogant but in a way that you know isn’t on purpose. Like, she’s just  _ that _ smart and knowledgeable about the subject. And she looks insanely sexy in glasses. Oh, and when she smiles—”

 

“Okay, Okay,” Octavia interrupted, holding her hand up. “Down, girl.” She shook her head. “You got it bad.” 

 

Clarke nodded, looking miserable. “Yep.” 

 

“Okay, here’s what you’re going to do,” Octavia demanded. 

 

Clarke gave her friend a curious look. “What?” she asked, a bit scared.

 

“Email her and ask if she’ll meet you at a cafe or something to go over your paper again.” 

 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “We just went over my paper,” she said. 

 

“Fine, day you want to get a head start on the next assignment, then,” Octavia said. “The point is to meet her outside of the educational environment. See if she jumps at the chance or insists you meet in her office. That’ll give you a clue is she’s into you or not.”

 

Clarke shrugged. “I mean, I guess I could text her and see if she can meet for dinner in the dining hall or the student union.”

 

“Your TA gives students her personal number?” Octavia questioned. 

 

Clarke shook her head. “No, she wrote it on the last paper I gave her to read over. Said to call or text if I had any other questions.”

 

Octavia nearly spat out her drink. “Shut up; she did not!” 

 

Clarke knit her brow in confusion. “Yes?” 

 

“Let me see,” Octavia demanded. 

 

Clarke fishes the paper out of her bag and turned to the last page. Octavia scanned the handwritten note and let out a squeal. “Griffin! You didn’t tell me she gave you her number!” 

 

Clarke snatched the paper back and glared. “It’s not like  _ that _ ,” she insisted. “She probably gives it to every student she works with regularly to stay in contact and answer questions immediately.”

 

“Because email is so slow,” Octavia deadpanned. Then she shook her head. “You’re such a useless lesbian.”

 

“I’m bi,” Clarke said. 

 

“Useless bisexual, whatever,” Octavia huffed. “She’s totally into you. I know that and I haven’t even met her.”

 

“It’s just a number,” Clarke said. She stared at the series of digits, already having memorized them. “It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

 

“But you want it to mean something, right?” 

 

Clarke blushed and nodded. “Dammit,” she said, dropping her head to the table again. “I told you I had a major problem.”

 

Octavia just gave her friend a knowing, comforting look and offered Clarke her cookie. “You need it more than I do.”

 

Clarke ate the cookie. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke makes good use of Lexa's personal number. There's an almost kiss. They get interrupted. Clarke bails.

“You actually gave her your personal number?” 

 

Lexa gave Anya an innocent look. “Yes?”

 

Anya stared at her in shock. “I mean, wow, that was a bold move right from the start. I thought it would take you longer to actually woman up and make a move.” 

 

Lexa knit her brow in confusion. “What are you talking about?” Lexa asked. “It’s just my number in case she has any questions or needs to set up another meeting to discuss the class.” 

 

Anya raised a single elegant eyebrow as she studied her best friend and roommate across the table at their favored diner just off campus. “Because email doesn’t exist?” 

 

Lexa shrugged and zipped her water. “It’s just easier,” she said. “It’s not a move.” She looked up at Anya, a nervous look on her face. “Wait, do you think she’ll take it as one? Oh god, what if she thinks I’m flirting with her?” 

 

“Aren’t you?” 

 

“No?” She hadn’t meant it to come out like a question, but her voice definitely had an upward lilt at the end of her denial. “I mean, of course not. She’s a student.”

 

Anya sighed. “Okay, I love you, Lexa, and I’m only saying this because of that love.” She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table and leveled Lexa with an intense look. “Get your shit together.” 

 

Lexa scowled. “Excuse me?” 

 

“I’m serious, Lex,” Anya said. “I wish you could see your face anytime you mention this girl. Your eyes light up and you always get this expression on your face that’s kind of sickening, really. It’s obvious you like her, so woman up and  _ do  _ something about it.” 

 

Lexa balled the paper that had been covering her straw in her fingers before attempting to smooth it back out on the tabletop. “You know it’s not that easy,” she muttered, voice almost too quiet to hear over the dinner rush crowd. 

 

“Make it that easy.”

 

“Why are you pushing this so hard?” Lexa asked tersely. 

 

“Because it’s the first time I’ve seen you go all heart eyes in years and I’m not about to stand by while you allow your fears get the best of you.”

 

“I’m not afraid,” Lexa protester weakly. She  _ wasn’t.  _ Definitely not even a little. (Okay, so maybe she was just a bit afraid.) 

 

Anya just hummed in response and the waitress brought their food over in that moment, temporarily pausing their conversation. It gave Lexa time to think. 

 

“Alright, fine,” Lexa said once the waitress had left after making sure they didn’t need anything else. “How about this? Since Clarke has my number now, I just see what she does with it. If she doesn’t use it or just asks for another meeting about her project, that’ll be that.”

 

“And if she does use it for anything else?” 

 

“I don’t know,” Lexa said honestly. “I still think it’s risky and borderline unethical to be involved with a student, but I can’t deny that I like her. A lot. She’s really smart and a beautiful writer. Not to mention she’s gorgeous. You should see how her smile just lights up her entire face, and—”

 

“Okay, Commander Hearteyes,” Anya interrupted. “I get it. Clarke is amazing. Blah, blah, blah. Can you stop being all gushy over her so I can eat without wanting to vomit?”

 

Lexa rolled her eyes. “You were the one to keep bringing her up,” she said, stabbing a piece of broccoli with her fork. 

 

“And I fully regret that decision.”

  
  
  
  
  


_ Hey, it’s Clarke. I just wanted to say thank you again for helping me fix my paper. I will definitely be seeking your services again. :) _

 

Clarke read over the message several times before finally pressing send. Lexa gave her her number. She obviously wanted her to use it. Right? 

 

She’d consider sending a blatantly flirty text, but thought better of it on the off chance that Lexa really did just give her number to all the students she worked with. (Unlikely, sure, but not out of the realm of possibility.) So she went for the polite and straightforward message instead. 

 

Lexa replied within minutes. 

 

_ Glad to help! It is my job, after all. ;)  _

 

A wink. Lexa had sent her a winking emoji. Huh. She didn’t take the girl for the emoji type, but she’d also assumed she was a cold-hearted bitch at first and that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

 

_ C: Well, regardless, thanks. With midterms coming up, I can’t afford to have anything less than a B.  _

 

_ L: You’ll be fine, Clarke. Just keep up with the readings and I’ll be here if you have any questions. Don’t hesitate to message, any time. _

 

_ C: Any time, huh? What about when I’m pulling an all-nighter and it’s 3am and I’m stuck?  _

 

Clarke smirked as she hit send. 

 

_ L: Message me anytime! Granted, I won’t see it until morning…  _

 

_ C: Pfft. Slacker. ;)  _

 

_ L: Rude. Have you started the next written assignment?  _

 

_ C: Just the readings for them. I plan to hunker down in the library this weekend and get a good chunk of it written. Then I was hoping you could look over it before I turn it in? _

 

_ L: Absolutely! I’m eager to read more of your beautiful prose :)  _

 

Definitely flirting. Clarke decided to up the ante. 

 

_ C: You certainly know how to flatter a girl, Woods. ;)  _

 

_ L: Only the pretty ones.  _

 

Oh shit. Lexa had just called her pretty. Clarke’s stomach erupted with butterflies. Before she could reply, her phone buzzed again. 

 

_ L: Oh, god. I’m sorry. That was out of line and unprofessional. I apologize, Clarke.  _

 

_ C: Only apologize if you didn’t mean it.  _

 

_ L: I mean, I did mean it, but it was still unprofessional.  _

 

_ C: Lexa, I think ‘professional’ went out the window when you gave me your personal number. Or do you give it to all the students you work with? _

 

_ L: Well, no. I’ve never given my personal number to a student before.  _

 

_ C: Why did you give it to me, then?  _

 

_ L: I don’t know.  _

 

_ C: I think you do.  _

 

_ L: Clarke. _

 

_ C: Yes? _

 

_ L: I’m trying to remain professional here.  _

 

_ C: Why? _

 

_ L: I’m your T.A.  _

 

_ C: And?  _

 

_ L: It’s unethical.  _

 

_ C: Is it? _

 

_ L: Yes.  _

 

_ C: Okay. If you say so.  _

 

_ L: It is! _

 

_ C: Uh huh. I’m going to work on that assignment this weekend then have it ready for you to review on Monday. Sound okay? _

 

_ L: Yes. Helping a student in a professional manner. I can do that. Have a good weekend, Clarke.  _

 

_ C: Goodnight, Lexa.  _

 

Clarke set her phone on her nightstand and knit her brow. She was now more confused than before. Well, about some things. Other things had definitely been cleared up in that conversation. First off, it became clear that Lexa returned at least some of her feelings. She wasn’t sure to what extent, but feelings were being had by the brunette. 

 

What she was confused about was Lexa’s interest in pursuing those feelings. Sure, Lexa was her T.A., but it wasn’t uncommon for undergrads to date their T.A.s. It wasn’t against any of the college’s policies. It wasn’t even ‘looked down upon.’ So Clarke wasn’t sure why she was so hesitant. 

 

Maybe she really had misread the situation completely and Lexa didn’t actually like her as more than a student. 

 

She fell back onto her bed with a groan, hands covering her face. Why couldn’t her romantic life ever be anything other than ten shades of complicated? 

  
  
  
  
  


“B,” Lexa said as she handed Clarke the marked up paper as they sat in Lexa’s small office. “A strong thesis and supporting arguments, but the transitions and conclusion are still weak. But overall, a vast improvement from your last paper.” 

 

Clarke nodded, still a bit salty about it not being an A, but she’d take a B over a D-plus any day. “Okay, so how do I fix it?” 

 

Lexa was about to offer her advice when the lights flickered a few times, causing them both to look up in surprise. Then they went out completely, the only source of light coming from a dim emergency light in the ceiling.

 

“Umm,” Clarke said, confused. 

 

Lexa sighed. “This building is the oldest one on campus,” she explained. “The power is notorious for being sketchy. It’ll be morning before they fix it.”

 

“So, what do we do?” Clarke asked. The paper was due in three days and she needed time to fix her errors. 

 

Lexa chewed her bottom lip. “We could see if there are any available conference rooms in the library, but this close to midterms they’re probably all booked.”

 

“The cafe?” Clarke suggested. 

 

Lexa shook her head. “Too crowded and loud,” she said. “I’m not a fan of crowded places.” 

 

Clarke nodded in understanding. Even she got claustrophobic in the cafe at times. “So…?”

 

“My roommate is visiting family out of state,” Lexa said. “If you don’t mind, we could just go to my apartment. It’s just off campus within walking distance.”

 

Clarke nodded, equally eager and hesitant. “Yeah, that’s fine.” 

 

“Nice place,” Clarke said fifteen minutes later as Lexa led her into the small but nice apartment. “Much nicer than the suite I share with my two best friends.” They sat at the small dining room table and got to work. 

 

“God, you’re infuriating,” Clarke muttered an hour later. “Why do you always have to be right?” 

 

Lexa stood with her hands on her hips, a determined expression on her face as they squared off in the living room. “I don’t always have to be right, but I  _ am _ right about this.” 

 

“No,” Clarke said, exasperated. “No way in hell. There is no way that  _ Order of the Phoenix _ is the best book in the series.  _ Prisoner of Azkaban  _ is so much better!” 

 

Lexa stood her ground. “You won’t change my mind on this, Clarke. You’re completely delusional if you think  _ Prisoner of Azkaban _ was better than  _ Order of the Phoenix _ .” 

 

“Ugh, it’s like arguing with a petulant child,” Clarke groaned out. “I bet you’re a Slytherin, too.” 

 

Lexa huffed. “And what’s so wrong with that? What are you? Hufflepuff?”

 

Clarke scoffed and puffed up her chest. “Gryffindor, duh,” she said. 

 

“Oh, of course,” Lexa said. “My mistake.” 

 

During their heated ‘argument,’ they’d drifted closer and closer until barely six inches separated them. And suddenly, Clarke very aware of that fact. She could smell the subtle scent of lavender and something citrus-y wafting from the other girl. Then she saw Lexa’s eyes flick down to her lips, then quickly back up.

 

Clarke inhaled sharply as their eyes met. She saw the recognition of their close proximity in Lexa’s eyes, her pupils dilating slightly. Like that old cliche of magnets being drawn together, they found themselves only inches apart, then centimeters. Clarke’s hand came up of its own accord to grip Lexa’s muscled bicep. Oh, god, they were about to kiss! 

 

The jingling of keys being inserted into the deadbolt of the door startled them both, causing them to jump back and put several feet of space between them just as the door swung open. 

 

Lexa put a neutral expression on her face as she rounded on the intruder. “Anya? Why aren’t you on your way to visit your family?” 

 

The girl--Anya, Clarke gathered--gave an exasperated sigh. “If you checked your phone, you’d see that I tried calling and texting you like a hundred times,” she said. “My car broke down halfway there. I had to get an Uber from the auto shop. You owe me eighty-seven dollars, Woods.” 

 

Lexa looked shocked and immediately went to her bag that she’d placed on the couch. “I--Where’s my phone?” she said, rifling through the contents. “I don’t have my phone. Shit.” 

 

“Did you leave it in your office when the power went out?” Clarke asked. 

 

Lexa stilled, thinking. Then she groaned. “I must have.” She stood up straight and gave her roommate a sad, ‘forgive me please’ look. “Ahn, I’m so sorry. I’ll pay you back for the Uber. I promise.”

 

Anya rolled her eyes. “I was kidding about that,” she said. “I figured you weren’t ignoring me. At least not on purpose.” She turned her attention to Clarke and tilted her head to the side. “I was kind of hoping that it was a girl that was keeping your attention.” She gave a sly grin. “Clarke, I presume?”

 

“Oh, no, no, no, Anya,” Lexa rushed out. “ _ God _ no. We were just working on her assignment in my office when the power went out. Again. So we came here to work. That’s it.” 

 

The intensity at which Lexa insisted that they were ‘just working’ hit Clarke like a bowling ball to the stomach, but she did her best to mask it. She put on a fake half smile and nodded. “Right, yeah, just working on Human Rights,” she said. “Which I think we’re done with. I have some great ideas for that paper now, so I should be going.” She grabbed her jacket and bag. “Um, I’ll see you in class, I guess. Thanks, again.” She didn’t wait for a reply before ducking out the door and closing it behind her. She slumped against the wall just beside the door, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. 

 

Once again, nothing was ever simple for Clarke Griffin’s love life. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Freaking Anya and her terrible timing!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, will I be able to keep this to 5 chapters like I planned?? (Probably not... oops.)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff...happens...

“What the hell, Lex?” 

 

Lexa looked at her roommate with an innocent expression. “What?” she asked, voice timid. She was still contemplating running after Clarke who had just fled the apartment. 

 

Anya let out a noise of disgust. “Really? You’re not that dense, Lexa.”

 

Lexa sighed, falling back onto the couch. “I almost kissed her,” she admitted. “Then  _ you _ barged in and scared her off.” 

 

Anya shook her head and groaned. “No, you dimwit,  _ you _ scared her off with your insistence that you were  _ just studying _ . What was that, anyway?” 

 

Lexa shook her head. “We were just studying. At first. I was helping her with an assignment. But, I mean, we got into an argument…” 

 

Anya sat heavily in the armchair. “About what? Human Rights?” 

 

Lexa bit her lip, shaking her head. “No…” she hesitated, knowing Anya would tease her, but that she also wouldn’t let it go without knowing. “About Harry Potter.” 

 

Anya blinked. “Harry Potter,” she repeated. 

 

Lexa nodded. “Yeah, she insists that  _ Prisoner of Azkaban  _ is the best in the series when clearly the best is  _ Order of the Phoenix _ ,” she explained. “I mean, how can you even hold a candle to  _ Order of the Phoenix _ ? It’s--”

 

“Okay, nerd,” Anya interjected, knowing Lexa would go on forever about the book. “Let me just stop you there. First of all,  _ Prisoner of Azkaban  _ is by far the best.” Lexa went to protest, but Anya held up her hand to stop her. “And  _ second of all _ ,” she stressed. “You’re so fucking dumb sometimes. Like, you’re one of the smartest people I know when it comes to academics and, you know, book stuff, but when it comes to girls and social cues, you’re just such a… useless lesbian.”

 

Lexa didn’t argue, knowing Anya was right. Instead, she fell back into the cushions of the couch and covered her face with her hands. “I know,” she said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why can’t I just be normal when it comes to girls?” 

 

Anya chuckled. “Lex, there’s no ‘normal’ when it comes to dating. Just text her and ask her out for coffee or dinner or something.”

 

Lexa shook her head. “I can’t,” she said, hands still hiding her face and muffling her voice. “I’m kind of mortified by how I reacted.”

 

“Yeah, I would be, too,” Anya said. 

 

“That’s not helping, Ahn,” Lexa groaned out. 

 

“It wasn’t supposed to, Lex.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


“This is so stupid,” Clarke said, eyeing their surroundings with a weary eye. 

 

“No way,” Raven said confidently. “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

 

Octavia rolled her eyes. “I also think this is a stupid idea,” she said. 

 

“Thank you, Octavia,” Clarke said. “I really don’t want to just hook up with a complete stranger.”

 

“Not a complete stranger,” Raven said. “There are plenty of people here that we know. Look, there’s Wells.”

 

Clarke scrunched up her nose in disgust. “I don’t want to sleep with Wells. We grew up together. He’s like a brother.” 

 

Raven shrugged. “Right. Um, oh, look. There’s Echo. She’s totally hot. I bet she’s wild in bed, too.” 

 

Octavia rolled her eyes. “ _ And _ she’s dating my brother,” she said. “They’ve been together for nearly a year, Rae. And thanks for that mental image; I need to go bleach my brain, now.” 

 

Raven snorted. “Right. I forgot. Well, my point is that you totally have options.”

 

“I don’t want options,” Clarke said, slouching into the booth of the table they were seated at in the back corner of the bar near campus. The Dropship was their favored spot because it wasn’t ever crowded, most students opting to hit up one of the loud chains scattered around town. They preferred the low key atmosphere and choice of craft beers. “I’m not looking for a hookup. With anyone, stranger or not.”

 

Raven lifted an eyebrow. “Clarke Griffin not looking for a hookup? As in… looking for an actual  _ relationship _ ?”

 

Clarke shook her head. “As in not looking, period,” she said. “I don’t need the drama of anyone, hookup or relationship, male or female. I’m over drama. I just want to live my life and not have to deal with all that shit.”

 

Octavia looked at her with narrow eyes. “Is this because of your crush on your TA? Because you think you lost your shot with her?”

 

Clarke shrugged. “It’s not a big deal,” she said. She took a long pull from her bottle of Summit Extra Pale Ale. “I just really need to focus on my classes. I don’t need distractions.” 

 

“So, you’re not upset that Lexa isn’t into you ‘like that,’” Octavia said, using air quotes. 

 

Clarke snorted. “Like I said, no big deal.”

 

Octavia leaned back and hummed. She knew without a doubt that her friend was just trying to make herself feel better by not letting on how affected she was by the entire situation. “Oh, yeah? So if I told you that she’s at the bar and has been staring at you with a look of complete lust in her eyes this entire time, you  _ wouldn’t _ be interested?”

 

Clarke whipped her head around so fast that she nearly pulled a muscle. Lexa was here? Lexa was staring at her? Lexa was… definitely not at the bar. Clarke glared at Octavia. “Fuck you,” she quipped, only half serious, but also annoyed. 

 

“I’m straight, and it’s not me you want to fuck,” Octavia said. “You actually like this girl.”

 

Clarke shot her a withering look. 

 

“Scowl all you want, Griff, but you’ve got it bad, and I really think you should go for it,” Octavia said. “When was the last time you actually  _ liked _ someone?”

 

“She already said she just thinks of me as a student in the class she T.A.’s,” Clarke protested, ignoring Octavia’s question. 

 

“No, that’s what she told her  _ roommate _ ,” Raven jumped in. “I mean, didn’t you say you were just about to bone?” 

 

Clarke rolled her eyes for what was probably the tenth time during the conversation. She held up her index finger. “First off, ‘bone’ is completely inaccurate here,” she said. She put up a second finger. “Second, we weren’t about to ‘bone,’ we were just about to  _ maybe _ kiss.” Another finger. “Third, why would she say that to her roommate if it wasn’t true?”

 

Octavia jumped in. “Uh, you mean like when I was so insistent that I didn’t like Lincoln ‘like that’ for almost two months before we actually got together?” 

 

“That was different,” Clarke protested. 

 

“How so?” Octavia asked. 

 

Clarke ignored that question as well. “Whatever, she doesn’t like me like that, I’m okay with that, and I just want to focus on school right now. Can you please just drop it?”

 

Raven and Octavia shared a knowing look, but finally allowed for a change in subject. Clarke pretended to pay attention to Raven as she talked about her newest project in her senior mechanical engineering class, but she couldn’t think about anything other than their conversation earlier. She’d told them that she didn’t care that Lexa didn’t seem to like her in that way, but really, it had stung. It  _ still  _ stung.

 

She wasn’t sure she’d be able to focus if she needed another meeting with her about an assignment. Maybe she could just do everything on her own. She’d learned a lot in the last several weeks from their meetings. Midterms were coming up and she could totally study for it without Lexa’s help. 

 

She  _ could _ . 

 

Except she was totally lying. 

 

She needed Lexa’s help. Big time. She’d tried, really tried, to nail this last assignment without Lexa’s help. She hadn’t done terribly, but she didn’t do as well as she’d hoped. She stared at the ‘B-’ on her midterm exam paper and slumped into her seat, wondering what she could have done better. 

 

It definitely wasn’t a gradebreaker. She could still earn her A if she aced the rest of the assignments and the final. But she wasn’t sure she could without Lexa’s help. Especially since the second half of the semester would be spent working on a research paper and presentation worth a quarter of her final grade. Then the final would be another quarter of her grade. 

 

Not to mention that she was a senior art major. She had a huge showcase coming up in four weeks on which she’d need to focus much of her time and energy. It was the culmination of her four years as an art student. 

 

Crap. She definitely needed Lexa’s help.

 

She glanced over her shoulder at Lexa, who gave her a small smile. ‘How did you do?’ Lexa mouthed as the professor began lecture. 

 

Clarke showed her the paper. 

 

‘Not bad,’ Lexa mouthed. 

 

Clarke shrugged and turned back around, knowing she needed to get her head in the game. She also knew that she needed to swallow her pride once more--this time for a very different reason--and ask for Lexa’s help. 

 

“You’re not happy with your grade?” Lexa asked as soon as class was dismissed. 

 

Clarke sighed as she looked up at Lexa in the row behind her. “Not really,” she said. “I’ve never been good at accepting anything lower than an A-minus. Blame my mother for her somewhat overbearing nature when it came to my academics in school.” 

 

“Well, you should be proud,” Lexa said. “Only twenty percent of the students in this section made higher than a C.”

 

That did make Clarke feel a little bit better, but she still knew what she had to do. “Right, well, I already know I’ll need your help studying for the final. And probably as I’m working on my project.”

 

Lexa nodded. “I’m happy to help, Clarke,” she said. “When do you want to get started? The sooner you begin the project, the better.”

 

Clarke nodded in agreement. “I was thinking the same thing. I’d like to start this weekend. Maybe I could stop by your office hours on Monday and show you what I put together by then?” 

 

Lexa shook her head. “My office hours this Monday are canceled,” she explained. “All polisci doctoral candidates have a mandatory meeting. But I’m free all of Sunday. We can meet in my apartment again, if you’d like?” 

 

Clarke was surprised to see the look of eagerness on Lexa’s face at the suggestion. They hadn’t interacted much in the two weeks since their maybe almost kiss. Clarke had half-convinced herself in those weeks that she’d imagined the entire thing given Lexa’s quick insistence that they were  _ just  _ working. 

 

“Uh, sure, I guess that’s okay,” Clarke said after a moment of hesitation. They quickly agreed on a time and Lexa put it on her google calendar. Clarke was confused by the fact that the girl blocked off five hours of Sunday with the title ‘Clarke.’ Five hours? Was she really in need of  _ five  _ hours of one on on study time to save her grade?

 

Clarke didn’t say anything. 

 

“Clarke?” 

 

Clarke blinked at her name, noting the curious expression Lexa was giving her. “Oh, uh, I’m sorry. Did you say something?” 

 

Lexa closed her laptop and slid it into her bag. “Yes, I asked if you were okay.”

 

Clarke shrugged. “Um, yeah, just midterms,” she said lamely. “I’ll see you Sunday.” She didn’t give Lexa a chance to respond before she hiked her bag over her shoulder and bolted up the stairs that led to the back of the lecture hall. Once safely outside the classroom, she slowed her pace as her head spun with unanswered questions as she made her way towards the dining hall. 

 

“So, you’re going to be alone with your T.A. who you happen to have a massive crush on and who you nearly smooched a few weeks ago but have been avoiding ever since and she blocked off five whole hours for you?” 

 

“Yeah?” Clarke said, playing with the pasta on her plate without actually eating it. 

 

“Dude,  _ five  _ hours?” Octavia repeated. 

 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Yes, O, that’s what I said.”

 

Octavia have her an incredulous look. “Babe, you don’t see it, do you?” 

 

Clarke gave her a confused look. “See what?” 

 

Octavia gave an exasperated groan. “You’re such a useless lesbian.”

 

“ _ Bisexual _ ,” Clarke emphasized, pointing her Alfredo-covered fork at her friend. “When are you going to get that through your thick skull?”

 

“Whatever, bumbling bisexual, then,” Octavia said, unfazed. “My point is that you’re dense. The only need for five hours to be blocked off her schedule is because she totally wants to bone.”

 

Clarke screwed up her face in a look of annoyance. “Okay, we discussed this, too. ‘Bone’ is a totally inaccurate description, and you’re way off base. Not to mention insane. She probably just thinks I need that much help. And maybe I do. Maybe I’m not as smart as I thought.”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” Octavia interrupted. “First, you’re one of the smartest people I know.”

 

“Raven is the smartest person you know,” Clarke pointed out. 

 

“That’s why I said  _ one  _ of the smartest people I know,” Octavia replied. “Don’t start doubting yourself. Hey, you managed to get a respectable B-minus in an insanely hard class without Lexa’s help, right?” 

 

Clarke sighed. “It was still a B-minus,” she said. 

 

“Still good,” Octavia said. “Back to my point, there’s no other valid reason for five hours than she likes you and wants to spend time with you. I mean, think about it. What’s the longest one of your meetings has lasted so far?” 

 

Clarke thought. “I don’t know, maybe two hours?” She didn’t mention how the last forty-five minutes of that two hour meeting had been them arguing over the qualities of the Harry Potter novels and almost kissing.

 

Octavia gave a sharp nod. “Boom,” she said. “She wants you.”

 

“You’re delusional, and I need to get to class,” Clarke said, standing. She returned her tray and grabbed her bag, budding Octavia goodbye as she ignored the girl’s parting words about how ‘boning’ could be accurate if a strapon was involved. (She really needed to consider making new friends.) 

  
  
  
  


Sunday came quicker than Clarke had anticipated. She’d spent Friday night and much of Saturday putting together an outline for her project and collecting supportive evidence. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. 

 

A minute before their agreed upon time, Clarke knocked at Lexa’s door, smirking when she thought about their first meeting and how much Lexa had focused on that one minute she’d been late. She heard the lock turn and the door swung open to reveal Lexa dressed casually in dark wash skinny jeans and black tank top that left her arms and most of her shoulders bare. Clarke forced herself to not gawk. 

 

“Hey, Clarke, come on in,” Lexa said, stepping aside to let Clarke enter. “Glad to see you’re right on time.” She gave Clarke a teasing grin. 

 

“Actually, you’ll see that I’m a minute early,” Clarke said cheekily. She shrugged off her light jacket and draped it over the back of a chair. Then she chewed her lower lip, curiosity getting the better of her. “Can I ask you a question?” 

 

Lexa quirked her head to the side and nodded. “Of course,” she said. 

 

Clarke sighed and dropped onto the couch. “Um, so, I noticed that you blocked off five hours on your calendar app,” she said, looking up at Lexa. “I was just curious as to why? I mean, do I really need that much help?” 

 

Lexa looked surprised by the question, then her cheeks flushed a bit, piquing Clarke’s curiosity even further. “Uh, no, you don’t need that much help,” Lexa said, sitting next to Clarke. “Ah, I’ll just be honest here, yes?” 

 

Clarke nodded. “Please,” she said, giving Lexa an imploring look. 

 

Lexa sighed and licked her lips, looking nervous. “Well, first, I wanted to take the opportunity to apologize. For last time. When Anya got back, I kind of panicked.”

 

“I noticed,” Clarke muttered. 

 

“Yeah,” Lexa said. “I just know how Anya is and that she would have interrogated the hell out of us. She’s really curious about you, you know.”

 

Clarke knit her brow. “Why would she be curious about me?” she asked. 

 

Lexa looked sheepish as she rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. “I, ah, may talk about you. A lot.” Her flush deepened a bit. 

 

“You do?” Clarke questioned. 

 

Lexa nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Look, Clarke, I like you, okay?”

 

“You do?” Clarke repeated, stomach fluttering with nervous excitement.

 

Lexa nodded. “Well, yeah,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And it’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone like that, so Anya would have asked a million questions that I don’t think either of us are ready to answer, so I panicked. I should have told you this sooner, but, well, I was still panicking. I thought about text you, but I figured it would be better in person. So I blocked off five hours in case I needed time to work up the courage.” 

 

Clarke was reeling. Lexa liked her, as more than a student. But she could tell that she was still holding something back. “Why were you panicking?” she asked. “I’m not scary.” She smiled softly. 

 

Lexa returned her smile. “Not  _ you _ , no, but the intensity of which I like you is very scary,” she admitted. “I--my last relationship ended badly. It’s been two years but I still feel the sting. I’m not still hung up on her or anything like that, so that’s not it. But I was hurt and this is the first time I’ve wanted to pursue something since then, so I’m cautious.”

 

Clarke licked her lips, trying to take in all of Lexa’s words rather than focusing on the fact that she liked her. She swallowed and turned on the couch to fully face Lexa. “Thank you for being honest with me,” she said softly. She hesitated slightly before reaching out to take Lexa’s hand in hers. “And for what it’s worth, I really like you, too.” 

 

Lexa nodded. “Yeah, I… I figured.” 

 

Clarke smirked. “So, what does it all mean?”

 

Lexa shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “Besides the fact that I’m being cautious, there’s also the question of ethics.” 

 

“Ethics?” Clarke asked, confused. “How so?”

 

“Well, I’m your T.A.,” she said. “I’m in a position of authority.”

 

Clarke laughed. “Lexa, I like you, I really do, and I respect you, but you have no actual authority over me,” she said. “You aren’t my professor.”

 

Lexa snorted. “I know, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not a power-hungry asshole, I promise. I just meant…” She trailed off and made an exasperated sound. “I don’t know, it just seems like there’s an an ethical dilemma. I mean, I influence your grades.”

 

“Do you actually grade papers?” 

 

Lexa shook her head. “No,” she said. 

 

“So what’s the ethical issue?” Clarke asked. “I mean, it’s not like you’re doing my assignments  _ for  _ me. I did that on my own.”

 

Lexa nodded. “You did,” she agreed. “I just think we need to be really careful and smart about this.” 

 

Clarke licked her lips. “I mean, if it’s really an issue for you, I only have half a semester left before I graduate. I-I would be okay with waiting if--” 

 

Before she could get the words out, she was being cut off by Lexa’s lips on her own, kissing her hard.

 

Oh.  _ Oh. _ Lexa was kissing her. Lexa Woods was really kissing her, deep and insistent. 

 

It only took Clarke half a second to snap out of her shocked state and kiss Lexa back, her hand automatically reaching up to curl around the back of the girl’s neck before she lost herself in the kiss. They definitely should have been doing this sooner. So much sooner. Clarke let out a soft moan, encouraging Lexa to continue as their lips parted and their tongues met for the first time. 

 

Lexa made a desperate sound in the back of her throat as she pressed Clarke back against the couch. Clarke went willingly, desperate to feel Lexa on top of her. Lexa settled carefully against her, their mouths never separating. Things were heating up quick, and Clarke found herself shifting beneath Lexa in an effort to find relief of her growing arousal. Her thighs parted, allowing Lexa’s hips to settle between them as they began to rock against one another. It definitely wasn’t enough to satisfy their need, but it felt so damn good just to be that close. 

 

Clarke gasped as a particularly hard thrust of Lexa’s hips sent a wave of arousal through her entire body. She pulled back and arched her back, allowing for Lexa to bury her face in her neck and press hot, wet kisses along her neck. She nibbled and licked a path down her neck, along her collarbone, and down until her progress was hindered by the top of Clarke’s shirt. She sucked at the smooth skin she found there.

 

“Fuck,” Clarke gasped. “Wait.” Lexa immediately pulled back, fearful she’d misread the entire situation. Her face must have looked panicked because Clarke gave her a reassuring smile. “Not like that,” she assured her. “I just don’t want your roommate to interrupt us again…” she glanced wearily at the door, half expecting it to swing open to reveal Anya. 

 

Lexa looked at the door and swallowed. Right. Anya. “Um, yeah, she said she wouldn’t be back until… later.” She left out the part where Anya had told her she was staying away so Lexa could “get some” (Anya’s words, not hers). “We, ah, we’re safe from interrupting roommates for now.” 

 

“Oh,” Clarke said. “In that case…” she pulled Lexa back on top of her and reconnected their lips in another searing kiss. 

 

But Lexa pulled back after a few seconds, causing Clarke to whimper in protest. “But, you know, we can never be too careful of unexpected roommates showing up and interrupting us.” 

 

Clarke blinked, unsure of where this was going. “Oh, uh, yeah. I guess.” Dammit. She wanted to keep kissing Lexa. She wanted to do more than that, actually. A lot more. “Should we stop and get some work done, then?”

 

Lexa shook her head and laughed. “No,” she said, standing. She held out her hand for Clarke to take. 

 

Clarke looked at the hand in confusion. “No?” she repeated, but she took Lexa’s hand anyway and allowed herself to be pulled off the couch. 

 

Lexa shook her head and tugged her across the room. “We should just relocate. To my room. Where the door locks.” 

 

Oh. “Your room?” Clarke repeated. “As in… your bedroom? With your bed?” 

 

Lexa paused in front of a closed door and turned to face Clarke. “Uh huh,” she said, kissing her again. “A very comfy, cozy bed,” she murmured against Clarke’s lips as she opened the door behind her. “I mean, if you’d rather work on Human Rights…” 

 

Clarke practically shoved Lexa through the doorway. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I should just skip to the morning after or nah? ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A good time is had by all...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay. No skipping to the morning after. =P
> 
> I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but the chapters I dislike the most are often times one readers seem to enjoy the most, so who knows? Just, please be nice. I wanted to get something posted this weekend. :)

_ “Your room?” Clarke repeated. “As in… your bedroom? With your bed?”  _

 

_ Lexa paused in front of a closed door and turned to face Clarke. “Uh huh,” she said, kissing her again. “A very comfy, cozy bed,” she murmured against Clarke’s lips as she opened the door behind her. “I mean, if you’d rather work on Human Rights…”  _

 

_ Clarke practically shoved Lexa through the doorway.  _

  
  
  


As soon as they cleared the threshold, Lexa surprised Clarke—again—by pressing her back against the door and causing it to slam closed. And she was surprised, but so fucking turned on, when Lexa attacked her lips once more. Clarke gripped Lexa’s hips in her hands, tugging her forward until they were pressed together, chest to knee, as they traded deep, tongue-thrusting kissed. God _ damn _ , Lexa could kiss. 

 

“Want you,” Lexa murmured against her jaw when they had to part for air.

 

“What,” Clarke gasped as Lexa’s lips attacked her neck, “about those ethics?”

 

“Fuck ethics,” Lexa growled into her neck. 

 

“Fuck  _ me _ ,” Clarke moaned as Lexa’s lips sucked at the place just below her ear. How had she known that was a weak spot for her? She slid her own hands beneath Lexa’s tank top, exploring the smooth expanse of her back. She was thwarted by the band of her bra, but made quick work of the clasp. She smirked at Lexa’s gasp when she felt the material loosen. But Clarke didn’t give her time to say anything before she tugged at her shirt, silently insisting that it come off. 

 

Lexa moved back just far enough to allow Clarke to rid her of her shirt. Then she pulled off her own bra and tossed it aside. Clarke wanted to explore Lexa’s newly exposed skin, but Lexa was on her again in a flash, kissing her senseless once more. So Clarke settled for running her hands up Lexa’s sides and swallowing her gasps of pleasure. 

 

“Fuck, Clarke,” Lexa gasped when Clarke cupped her breast, nipple already rock hard against her palm. “Not fair,” she said against Clarke’s lips. Then she was tugging at Clarke’s own shirt and making her intentions clear. Soon, they were both bare from the waist up, Clarke’s shirt and bra cast carelessly aside as they stumbled towards the pristinely-made bed. Clarke made a mental note to tease Lexa about the precision of the bed linens as Lexa shoved her down onto the fluffy comforter. But all thoughts of anything other than Lexa shot out of her mind the moment the girl settled on top of her and began kissing another wet, heated path down her chest. Only this time, she wasn’t hindered by a shirt. 

 

When lips closed around her pebbled nipple, Clarke gasped and pressed her hips upwards, seeking relief. Lexa hummed against her breast, the sound sending tiny vibrations straight to her core. She parted her denim-covered thighs, hoping Lexa would get the hint. 

 

She did. 

 

Lexa moved so that one of her own thighs was between Clarke’s, the solid muscles beneath the denim pressing against Clarke’s center. 

 

Clarke gasped and canted her hips upwards, needing more. She could feel her underwear becoming uncomfortably damp with her arousal, and it was only getting worse with each upwards push. “Lexa,” she whimpered, fingers threading in long, wild waves. “Please.”

 

Lexa looked up at her with her lips still wrapped around her nipple. Her eyes were dark with lust, the green irises nearly fully eclipsed by her pupils. Clarke whimpered and tugged Lexa back up for another kiss, needing those lips on her own once more. Lexa eagerly complied, kissing her swiftly as their hands wandered with wild abandon.

 

Lexa was the first one to lose her jeans, kicking them off even as she refused to break their kiss and her fingers worked at the fastenings of Clarke's jeans. She growled in frustration when the button refused to cooperate. Clarke helped her out, making a comment about the tricky hole and Lexa had to refrain from making a crude joke. She decided it was way more important to rid Clarke of her pants than making the dumb joke about lesbian sex and holes. 

 

Finally, they were both left in just their underwear and Lexa's hand was slipping beneath the black lace of Clarke’s thong. (She refused to admit that she’d very carefully chosen her underwear that morning with the hopes of ending up here.) 

 

Clarke gasped and her legs parted as Lexa's fingers found her clit, running tiny circles against the bundle of nerves. Even as her fingers played, circling her clit only to move downwards and tease her entrance and gather more of her slick before repeating the motions, her lips kissed down her neck and across her collarbone. Again, Lexa closed her lips around her nipple just as she thrust two long fingers into Clarke's drenched opening. 

 

“Fuck, Lexa,” Clarke gasped as Lexa's lips and fingers worked in tandem. She wasn't going to last long with Lexa doing  _ that  _ with her fingers, curling them in just the right way to brush against that perfect spot inside her. How had she found it so quickly? How did Lexa manage to know exactly what would drive her closer and closer to what was sure to be an earth-shattering orgasm?

 

When Lexa's thumb moved to press against her clit, she was a goner. Her hips refused to stay still and she was making noises she'd never made before—low, guttural moans that sounded alien to her, but she couldn't stop. She was close. So freaking close…

 

But Lexa suddenly stopped all movements of her fingers and pulled her hand out of Clarke's underwear as she sat up. Clarke made a whimpering sound that would have embarrassed her had it been anyone else. She opened her eyes and gave Lexa a pleading look. “What—?” 

 

“Shhh,” Lexa said and gave her a reassuring smile. Clarke immediately understood when Lexa hooked her fingers into the waistband of her thong and tugged. Clarke lifted her hips to help and soon she was completely naked. Lexa started to move back over her, but Clarke stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. 

 

“Yours, too,” she said, her free hand tugging at the navy blue boy shorts that Lexa wore. Lexa gave her a sly grin and moved to the side to shove her panties down her thighs, then kicked them all the way off. 

 

Jesus fuck. Lexa was absolutely stunning. All long, slim, and toned limbs. Her stomach was completely flat and her abs even had a hint of definition to the muscles. Her legs were a mile long and muscular, but still slim. Her breasts were small, but high and round. Clarke couldn't wait to see how they fit in her palms. So that’s what she did, reaching out to cup one perfect breast in her hand, feeling the nipple pebble against her palm. 

 

Lexa leaned into Clarke's touch and found herself moving on top of Clarke again, settling against her as they reveled in their shared nudity.

 

“Fuck, you feel so good against me,” Clarke gasped out, eyes nearly rolling back in her head.

 

Lexa captured her lips again as she wiggled her hips to find the perfect position. They both gasped when one of Lexa's firm thighs nudged between Clarke's once more, only this time nothing separated Lexa’s smooth flesh from the blonde’s heated center. Clarke shifted and pressed her own thigh upwards to press against Lexa. She nearly came at the feel of Lexa's arousal against her. 

 

“Fuck,” Lexa gasped, beginning to move her hips back and forth in an effort to create friction against her throbbing clit. 

 

Clarke reached down and gripped Lexa's buttocks in both hands, pulling her harder against her. She'd never felt anything quite like this before. She'd had plenty of sex before, and while it had always felt good and she'd managed to orgasm nearly every time, this was different. This feeling was freakishly otherworldly. 

 

And they were just grinding against one another. 

 

She suddenly had the burning desire to make Lexa come with her mouth. To taste her. Savor her. Devour her. So she pushed against Lexa's shoulders and urged her onto her back, swallowing Lexa's grunt of surprise and acquiescence. Then she scooted down on the bed and laid on her stomach between Lexa's muscled thighs and began trailing kisses up the inside of one thigh. She inhaled deeply, savoring the heady scent of her desire. 

 

Lexa cried out and sank one hand into Clarke's hair, urging her to continue. Clarke did, finally making contact with Lexa's dripping pussy. Fuck. She tasted exquisit. Deep and heady with a hint of sweetness. Clarke could easily spend all afternoon between Lexa’s thighs.

 

She started off by licking a long, slow path from her entrance up and around her clit, but not allowing her tongue to make contact with the nerve endings just yet. Lexa whimpered in desperation and bucked her hips. Clarke placed a firm hand on her lower abdomen to keep her still and continued her assault on her cunt. She lapped at her juices, driving her tongue as deep as she could into her hole, effectively fucking her with her tongue. 

 

Lexa sobbed in pleasure as well as agony. She needed to come. “Clarke, please,” she cried out. 

 

Clarke took mercy on her and finally— _ finally _ —began to lick at her clit. She quickly discovered the perfect motion to make Lexa go nearly insane with pleasure and she kept at it. But she didn't let Lexa come just yet. As soon as she felt Lexa getting close, she would back off before building her up again and again. Finally, Lexa tightened her fingers in Clarke's hair and begged her to stop teasing. 

 

That's all it took for Clarke to give in and lap at her clit until Lexa was crying out and her thighs were clamping around her head as she came undone, letting out a long, deep moan. She cursed and finally went limp beneath Clarke. 

 

Clarke kept working her clit until Lexa pushed her away, saying that she couldn't take any more. So she kissed up her torso and heaving chest and the brunette pulled her in for another searing kiss. Lexa didn’t seem to mind that she’d just gone down on her, so she kissed her deeply, allowing Lexa to taste herself on her lips. 

 

What Clarke wasn't expecting was for Lexa to immediately roll her onto her back and plunge her hand between them, sinking two fingers inside her. 

 

Clarke gasped against Lexa's mouth and cursed. How did Lexa know she got off on a bit of roughness? 

 

“Do you want my fingers or my mouth?” Lexa asked her even as she fucked her with her fingers. 

 

Clarke wanted her mouth, oh did she ever, but she also didn't want to stop kissing her. “Fingers for now,” she said and pulled Lexa back in to resume their kiss. Lexa took the hint and thrust her tongue into Clarke's mouth in time with the thrust of her fingers inside Clarke. Her thumb came up to work her clit and Clarke gasped again, on the brink of exploding. “Oh, god,” she whimpered against Lexa's lips. “Another.”

 

“Another finger?” 

 

Clarke nodded and Lexa complied, adding a third finger to the mix. She basked in the look of extreme pleasure that crossed Clarke's face as she did so. Clarke was tight around her fingers, especially when she curled them slightly to rub against that sweet spot just inside of her. She pressed harder with her thumb and all too soon, Clarke was clenching around her fingers as her face contorted in a look of ultimate pleasure as her entire body tensed. She cried out Lexa's name as she came, a rush of fluids mixing with her arousal around Lexa's fingers. Clarke's walls tightened so much around Lexa's fingers that it was on the brink of hurting, but she loved every second of it.

 

Finally, Clarke relaxed, her entire body going limp as she was flooded with post-orgasm endorphins. Lexa was able to slowly remove her fingers and Clarke whimpered at the loss of feeling full. She opened her eyes just in time to watch Lexa stick her fingers in her own mouth and suck them clean. “Hmm,” she hummed appreciatively. “You taste amazing.” 

 

Clarke pulled her back on top of her and they kissed languidly, slow and intense. “I’m really glad you blocked off five horus for this meeting,” Clarke murmured after a few minutes of trading kisses. 

 

Lexa hummed. “Actually, I blocked off the rest of the day,” she said. “And Anya isn’t supposed to be back until late.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Clarke said, amused. “Well, I guess that means there’s lots of time to get started on my project, then.” She smirked.

 

Lexa raised a single eyebrow. “Your project, huh?” she said. “We could work on that, or…” she trailed off as she rolled Clarke onto her back and settled her hips between Clarke’s thighs. “I could do this.” She pressed her hips forwards, causing the blonde to let out a moan. She was still sensitive after her recent orgasm, and the friction was both incredible and overwhelming at the same time. 

 

“Fuck,” Clarke gasped. “Lexa, don’t tease me. I’ve waited too long.” 

 

Lexa gave her an amused look as she continued gyrating her hips. “Oh, yeah?” she said. “How long?”

 

Clarke let out another soft moan when Lexa’s pelvis ground against her swollen clit. “Shit, fuck,” she gasped. “What?” 

 

“How long have you been thinking about this, Clarke?” Lexa repeated, not pausing in her movements. 

 

“Oh,” Clarke whimpered. “Um. Since—oh fuck—since the first day of classes. You were such a bitch, but also so fucking sexy in those glasses.” 

 

Lexa finally did pause in her movements and looked down at Clarke. “I didn’t mean to off like an arrogant asshole” she said, sounding a bit worried. 

 

Clarke laughed and reached down to grip Lexa’s hips and urge her to continue. “It’s in the past, babe,” she said. “We already had this conversation, remember? Now, stop teasing and  _ fuck me _ .” 

 

Lexa finally gave in. Only this time, she didn’t simply grind her hips against Clarke’s center. She slid down Clarke’s body and settled her shoulders between her supple thighs. This time, oh, this time she was going to make Clarke beg. 

  
  
  
  


Hours later, Clarke couldn’t keep the smile off her lips as she watched Lexa putter around the small kitchen to make them something quick to eat. They’d “studied” all through lunchtime, and it was now growing dark outside. The five hours had more than passed, but neither one of them cared. 

 

Sex with Lexa was even better than Clarke had imagined it would be. She’d had some good sex in the past—mindblowing, even. But this was so much more. 

 

Lexa looked up from her task of buttering bread to make a couple of grilled cheese and caught Clarke staring with that silly grin on her face. “What?” she said. 

 

Clarke just shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “Just really glad I came here today.” 

 

Lexa paused in the buttering of bread and she put the knife down so she could turn towards Clarke and loop her arms around her neck. “Oh, yeah? Were you considering otherwise?”

 

Clarke looked sheepish as she placed her hands on Lexa’s hips. “Uh, I considered canceling, yeah,” she admitted, cheeks turning pink as she cast her eyes downward. 

 

Lexa knit her brow. “Why?” 

 

Clarke gave her a sad smile. “I, ah, after the last time I was here…” she trailed off with a shrug. “My pride was a bit wounded because I thought you didn’t like me the same way I liked you. I don’t know.” 

 

Lexa brought a hand to cup Clarke’s cheek. “I hope I’ve convinced you that I  _ do  _ like you, Clarke. Very much so.”

 

Clarke grinned. “Considering the, what? Five orgasms you gave me not too long ago? Yeah, I’m pretty convinced.”

 

Lexa broke out into a wide smile, and Clarke nearly swooned again. “Good,” she said, then leaned in to press a soft kiss on Clarke’s lips. “So, does that mean you’ll go on a date with me?” She actually looked a bit nervous. 

 

Clarke pretended to have to think about it for a few seconds, then laughed. “Of course I’ll go on a date with you,” she said. “Is it too soon to mention the g-word?” Now it was her turn to look nervous. 

 

Lexa tilted her head to the side and gave Clarke a mockingly confused look. “Why would it be too soon to mention your g-spot? I did just have my head between your legs not twenty minutes ago.” 

 

Clarke groaned at Lexa’s humor. “Is this what I’m in for, now? Bad jokes?” 

 

“You haven’t heard the half of it, blondie.” 

 

They both jumped at the sound of the voice coming from the doorway. They whipped their heads around to see who dared interrupt them. 

 

“Anya,” Lexa groaned. “How much of that did you hear?” 

 

Anya rolled her eyes and shut the door. “Way too much about your afternoon activities, apparently,” she said dryly. “But it looks like you finally got you me head out of your own ass and in a more productive place between blondie’s—”

 

“Okay!” Lexa interrupted, turning bright red. “We get it. Don’t you have somewhere better to be?” 

 

Anya looked between them, then rolled her eyes dramatically. “Only because I’m glad you’ve finally ended your dry spell,” she said. “I’m going to sleep on Lincoln’s couch. You owe me.” Then she turned to look at Clarke. “Hurt her and you’ll have me to answer to.”

 

Clarke’s eyes widened at the blatant threat. “I have no intentions of hurting anyone,” she said, voice cracking with fear. 

 

Anya stared her down for a moment, eyes narrow, but then she nodded. “Don’t do anything gross on the furniture,” she said to Lexa. Then she was gone. 

 

“What—What just happened?” Clarke asked, wondering if she’d imagined it all. 

 

Lexa sighed, but grinned. “You asked me to be your girlfriend and then my roommate interrupted before I could say yes.” 

 

Clarke was about to protest that she hadn’t actually asked her to be her girlfriend, but then she comprehended the last part of Lexa’s statement. She couldn’t stop the giant smile forming on her face. “Yes?” she repeated. 

 

Lexa hummed, tugging Clarke back against her. “Yes.” 

 

They forgot about all thoughts of food until the sun had fully set and the bread had gone stale from sitting out in the open for far too long. They had to settle for cheap Ramen, instead, but neither of them minded in the least as they fell asleep that night, stomachs and hearts full. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the official end for this fic, but I'm not opposed to making it a series. It was only supposed to be a three-shot anyway. Oops. =P 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! :)

**Author's Note:**

> As always, let me know what you think. :)


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